


Twin Flames

by tria_star



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tria_star/pseuds/tria_star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of 'Maelstrom', Sam dreams about his past life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twin Flames

A clean break, the doc assured him, holding up the x-ray film. Sam laughed, still drunk, and muttered that there was no such thing. Not when you were married to Kara Thrace. She had a way of getting in your head and staying there. 

The doc took a drag of his cigarette. There was pity in his eyes as he shot Sam full of morpha. 

Sam felt the drug unfurl rapidly in his veins. It pushed him deeper into the cot like a warm, loving hand, smothering his pain and sending him open-armed toward dreams. Dreams blessedly unbound from reality. Dreams where she was still alive. 

He opened his eyes, or thought he did, in a bedroom he had never seen. He was sprawled on the bed with his guitar in his lap, unplugged. He tried to recall the chord progression that had popped into his head while they made love, but his thoughts were too drenched in the afterglow of sex and whiskey. It was going to be one hell of a hangover. 

As his fingers played over the strings, he watched the woman who had been his wife. She was pulling on her clothes in front of the mirror. She winked over her shoulder at him and took a healthy swig of her drink. He had no idea where she was going, but he knew she was leaving. Did they ever stop saying goodbye? He wondered how long it would be this time.

When she was dressed she sat at the foot of the bed and listened to him play for a while. The muted notes trailed away as her presence overtook his concentration. He looked her in the eyes and swallowed hard. 

Her lips pressed together in a tell he recognized as sorrow, then she took his hand and kissed his knuckles roughly. Almost got it, she said, nodding towards his guitar. She gripped his hand a moment longer, then turned and was out the door before he could exhale. 

He envied her, he realized. It was better to be the one leaving than the one left behind.


End file.
